Let's Knock On The Sky And Listen To The Sound
by itsbeautiful9
Summary: For the first time in her life, Quorra could feel the sun on her face.
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in her life, Quorra could feel the sun on her face. The warmth, the radiance…the beauty. The sunrise almost seemed unreal, not quite like the descriptions she read in Flynn's books, and not quite like the blue light of the Grid, which emanated from the portal….the portal that had taken her far from any home she might have known. No, with the yellow sun dancing upon her face, she realized that now _she _was the unreal one. The one that didn't belong. The grip that Quorra had on the body in front of her tightened. This was Sam's home, she thought. He was no longer the outsider…she was.

When Sam had finally walked out the entrance of Flynn's arcade, she felt a lurch in her stomach. She recognized his sandy hair, broad shoulders...his blue eyes…but there was something more comfortable in his lazy walk than she had ever remembered seeing in roughly 8 cycles she had known him on the Grid.…probably only a few minutes in real time, she thought absently. Before, Quorra had thought that there was something…off in his personality and he had seemed almost aimless at times…as if he didn't really know what to make of everything. But, that haphazard demeanor seemed to have simply disappeared and now he seemed so at ease in the real world. It struck her that they didn't really know each other at all but here they were, inextricably tied to each other.

_What's next, Sam?_ She had asked him. He had simply turned his appraising gaze from the arcade sign, onto her own form, that lazy gait bringing him closer and closer. _We change the world, I guess._ Her blue eyes widened. It was then that Quorra became very aware how entirely dependent she was on him now. It seemed a queer twist of fate, considering how just a few cycles ago it had been him who had looked on her, eyes brimming with questions. And she had tried to answer them. She only hoped that he would do the same. _Come on, I want to show you something._ He had said, leaning in close, so she could feel the moisture of his breath on her face. As Quorra climbed on the back of what appeared to be a crude light-cycle-like vehicle, pressing herself against Sam's warm back, she wondered if she could ever be that…alive.

Sam went faster and faster, a look of intense focus on his face, weaving in and out of the other vehicles ahead of them, the scenery blurring past Quorra's head. Unlike the grid, which kept you upright and on a linear course as long as you didn't approach an obstacle, in this world, she felt as if the possibility of simply falling right off was decidedly real. As the wind whipped through her short hair, she felt the thrill of the deep-seated fear rise within her. The fear that she would never belong in such a painfully real world as this. She gripped Sam tighter and he tilted his head almost imperceptivity towards her, never breaking his concentration, allowing the movement of the bike to be an extension of himself.

The realization that she was truly afraid of something, perhaps for the first time ever, scared her more than anything Flynn could have ever dreamt up. On the Grid, Quorra had felt no fear. Especially not of the fast or of the dangerous. On the contrary, she had had an alarmingly playful demeanor when it came to the seemingly insurmountable obstacles ahead. She had always enjoyed a challenge, so why should this one be any different? Granted, the fact that she was an isometric algorithm with the potential to unlock the mysteries in almost every field of science, religion and medicine, made her future in the real world extremely uncertain, but…wasn't that even more of a reason to let go of her fear? _Flynn is teaching me about the art of the selfless, about taking yourself out of the equation._ Tentatively Quorra unclenched her hands from around Sam's waist and slowly…let go…her arms outstretched, her face tilted up to the sky. She felt like she was flying, the tall dark shapes of a city whipping past her head, unfamiliar smells engulfing her, and the sound of Sam's laughter mixed with her own. _You got this, Quorra._

Memories of Flynn flashed before her eyes and she finally realized that _this_ was what he had missed so terribly during those many cycles he spent in the Grid. She had known how badly he had wanted to come home… how often he had dreamt of having a life with Sam. She had seen it in his eyes. But he had given that all up…for her, to protect her and give her a place to belong, the last ISO. Flynn had been the only family she had and she hadn't wanted to lose him….but, regardless, that dream of the real world had seeped back into his calm gaze the moment the portal had been reopened and, from the minute Sam and Quorra had met, she had felt the illusion of the Creator slip from her mind. Flynn was a user, but he was also a man…and he loved his son. He loved Sam enough that he sacrificed himself to de-resolution in order to save him…and to give Quorra a chance at a real life. _A real life…_..And she was going to live it.


	2. Chapter 2

Just like every other normal day he had spent in the last seven years, as Sam speeded down the highway, he zipped past a traffic cop laying in wait at an intersection, alerting them to his break-neck speed…in fact, it was almost like nothing had changed at all as the officer began his pursuit, lights flashing…Almost. There was that lingering feeling deep in Sam's gut that told him otherwise. The feeling that, from the moment he has stepped foot on the Grid, everything had changed. The pesky motor cop invaded Sam's side mirrors and, bored with the chase, decided to lose him by increasing his speed, ducking in and out of the oncoming traffic. Sam's proclivity towards things fast and dangerous had long been a pattern throughout his life, his preoccupation with his ducati starting with his Dad's old bike….something he had held onto over the years in a desperate attempt to keep the memory of Flynn alive. It was something they had shared, just the two of them. _How does she run?_ He had asked Sam. _Better than ever, when I am through. _He had answered.

Sam still could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that his Dad had really done it…_The Grid. A digital frontier. I tried to picture clusters of information as they moved through the computer. What did they look like? Ships? Motorcycles? Were the circuits like freeways? I kept dreaming of a world I could never see. Then, one day, I got in. _Sam could still picture the way his father's eyes had lit up as he told a dorky seven-year-old kid story after story of his adventures with Tron, with Clu. For a moment, at this thought, Sam's eyebrows lowered, mouth turned down in a frown. What was even harder for him to comprehend was that Flynn was dead. He was gone before they ever really had a chance to get back what had already been lost. _I would have given all this up, for one more day with you Sam. _His throat felt suddenly dry, as he gulped in a breath of air and tried to push away the moisture threatening to spill over his eyes.

As Sam drove his motorcycle onto the docks, the sound of the water lapping against the concrete vaguely reminded him of the sound the Sea of Simulation made as enemy programs had crashed beneath its waves. Although the light-jet battle had been brief, it jarred him to think of how real the Grid still seemed to him now, how real the water had looked, how real the pain in his hand was as he slammed his knuckles into Clu's face….how real the terror had been as he had been forced to let go of his father for the second time in his life. _It's time, Sam._ The gravel beneath his bike's tires crunched, a sound he had strangely missed when he had been away, as the abandoned repair garage that he called home loomed up in front of him. Sam felt a slight squeeze at his waist and he almost fell off the bike, not quite remembering the weight leaning against his back…that he had someone with him now…Quorra.

She hadn't been that fazed by the screeching pace of his motorcycle…at least, not that he noticed. Then again, it didn't seem like she was fazed by much of anything. Maybe it was because of that selflessness training that she was always talking about, Sam thought, because when she had looked at him outside the arcade and asked him what was next…there had been a look of complete trust in her eyes that he couldn't fathom. He certainly hadn't done much to deserve it. While Quorra had risked herself for him again and again on the Grid, He had merely blundered his way to the portal, not really giving the consequences of his actions much thought. _You've done enough_, _Sam! _He thought bitterly. Somewhere along the way, it seemed that Quorra's allegiance to Flynn, to her Creator, had been transferred onto him….it appeared unshakable and unquestioned….and Sam didn't quite know what to do with it. No one had ever given that to him before.

It struck him that he had always felt very alone. First his mother had died, then Dad had disappeared….a flash of memory spurted in his brain…_I suppose…Mom and Dad? _Flynn had asked him…._Yeah, Grandpa when I was twelve and Gran five years later..._Even as a kid, he had been pretty solitary, mostly just messing around with the video games at the arcade and after all was said and done, no matter how many surrogate-father-outings Alan had taken him on over the years, Sam preferred it that way. Just him and his bike….and Marve. Sure, there had been some women but it was never serious, being that they were only interested in cooing over his tragic childhood and he was usually preoccupied with his annual company prank on Encom tower. Even when he was with other people…he always felt somewhat out of place.

The motorcycle skidded to a halt, the doors of the garage noisily shutting behind them, as Quorra swiftly alighted from her seat and he adjusted the kickstand. Glancing curiously around her, Sam got the chance to finally take a really good look at her….she looked…real; solid…like she could actually belong here. The blue light that had radiated from her grid suit had certainly given Quorra's face an other-worldly charm but, standing in his living room in normal clothes, and under grimy lighting, Sam realized that she hadn't lost one ounce of that charm…although the normal nonchalance in her step had seemingly been replaced with a more…careful demeanor now.

"Where are we?" She asked, appraising her surroundings with wide blue eyes, a pointed eyebrow raised. "We're just outside the city," Sam replied, getting off his bike and unzipping his leather jacket. "This building used to be a mechanic's garage, back in the day, until they built the docks and it was abandoned." Quorra just looked at him vaguely, as if she didn't really understand what he meant. "So you live here, now?" She clarified and he just nodded as she began to examine the room more thoroughly. "But, where are your books?" She exclaimed, finally, in surprise. _Flynn shared his books with me. I've read them all. _Now, it was Sam's turn to look vague as he tried to come up with an answer to her question and, just as he was about to try, someone else decided to make his presence known.

A sharp barking sound emanated from the corner of the makeshift apartment and Sam could feel Quorra tense up, startling so bad that her first response was to fling her right hand up like she was about to reach for her disc, her stance in attack-mode. Witnessing this strange set of events, and such an out-of-place reflex, caused Sam to let out a deep chuckle as his dog, Marve, crept out of the shadows to sit at his feet, his bug eyes staring up at Sam, his tail wagging eagerly. It took her about a second but, when she realized what she was about to do, Quorra shot him a quick look of shock and Sam swore that he could just make out an embarrassed blush cross her cheeks as she shifted closer to him. He just shook his head. That damn dog always seemed to have a way of pointing out the things that Sam usually just wanted to brush under the rug…like that fact that, despite her calm exterior, Quorra was probably going over everything in her head again and again…just like he was. Only, now, Sam was finally home…while Quorra was decidedly out of her element.

"Quorra, meet Marve." Sam gestured between the small dog and the alarmed woman beside him, making the introductions. "Marve, meet Quorra….another rescue." At this, Quorra relaxed her stance and smiled brightly at Sam, her eyes crinkling, making his stomach flip over.


	3. Chapter 3

For a moment, when she first opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room, Quorra forgot where she was. A fierce panic immediately gripped her as she scanned her surroundings, trying to ground herself. She knew her disc was gone, she was in strange clothes….she was sitting on some kind of couch and there were wood floors, and garage doors. Motorcycle parts everywhere. _Sam's apartment_. She looked down at her lap, realizing that she was sitting in a meditative pose, pillow beneath her, hands lying docile on her lap. Blinking, she finally slowed her breathing and steadied her heart. She was safe…or at least she felt safe. There was warmth pressing into Quorra's side and she glanced beside her. It was Marve._ Don't worry, he won't bite. _Sam had told her. Probably trying to make her feel more at ease, she thought. It had the opposite effect, however. _They bite?_ It struck her as strange how all of Flynn's books she had read had done little to prepare her for what it was actually like in this real world. Sure, she had read descriptions of animals like dogs, but actually being able to feel the scratch of it's fur, and hear the snorts of breath from its nostrils…that was a completely different thing.

Something strange stirred in Quorra. She wasn't used to this tightening, this constricting in her chest as she thought of all the unknown things in store for her now. Back on the grid, Quorra had a pretty straight-forward existence. She lived a very simple life. She knew her purpose as an isometric algorithm; she knew what that meant….revolution, genocide. Flynn had given her a glimpse of something akin to the real world, or so she thought. But, now that she was here, everything felt so overwhelming to her senses and she could feel her body reeling with impressions of things she didn't have names for. _Grief, exhaustion, excitement? _She thought absently, picking out some of her favorite words from the books she had read. Truthfully she was losing her grasp on her reality. So she had done the one thing she could always turn to, the most important thing that Flynn had taught her. Meditation.

As Quorra cleared her head and looked around, she realized that the apartment was in complete darkness, all except for one light that had been surreptitiously left on, casting shadow across the room. It shone right onto Sam's body, which was slumped down in the chair opposite her, his arms across his chest and his chin tilted down. _How did you find him? _She mused, shaking her head. It had been hard for Quorra, at first, adjusting to life off-Grid with Flynn. During the purge she had been so used to the hiding, the running, the counting on nobody but herself that his lessons of self-lessness were hard learned. _Just as everything was going dark, I felt a hand on my shoulder. And when I looked up, it was him. The Creator. Your father, he saved me. _But he was her savior, so she tried, fidgeting and twitching, all while Flynn had knocked on that sky…and listened to the sound. Quorra tried to quell that uneasiness in her heart…but she could never quite get it right, always trying to best herself, always ready to go. She felt like that now.

She slowly moved from the couch, stretching her legs out and not making a sound. Marve whimpered at the loss of body heat but soon settled back down as Quorra made her rounds. Anxious to ground herself in this new world with something tangible, a clear picture of Sam's life, she circled the apartment and letting her fingers lightly skim over objects within her reach. There were three cycles sitting prominently in view, obviously in the midst of repair, greasy tools strewn about nearby. Marve's pillow lay cozy near, what looked to be, a stove. It wasn't messy but surprisingly clean making it easier for Quorra to snoop around, finally finding a small bookcase hidden away and tucked into a corner…exactly what she had been looking for. When Quorra had asked Sam, point-blank where his books were he seemed almost cagey, as if he were trying to avoid the subject entirely. And now she knew why. Photographs of a young Flynn littered the shelves. Some were alone, others with a young Sam, pulling this way and that and smiling up at his father. Even older pictures showed a woman standing with Flynn, eyes full of joy as she held a newborn baby in her arms. All of a sudden, Quorra got the distinct feeling that she had tread somewhere very personal…somewhere she probably didn't belong. She snuck a peak over her shoulder at Sam, still as a rock in the chair, fighting with her own curiosity. She wanted desperately to continue but part of her held her back, if only for a moment.

The bookshelf was covered in a thin film of dust, which flew up into Quorra's face and making her cough as she fingered through the book titles. Theoretical Aspects Of Advanced Computer Science, Mathematics Of Information And Coding, Computational Discrete Mathematics. Quorra raised a pointed eyebrow in surprise. They were all books about computer coding and mathematics. And tucked into the back, the book cover torn and ragged, was a well-worn copy of The Digital Frontier by Kevin Flynn. _Like father, like son._ She mused, wondering why Sam tried so hard to hide it. It had become apparent to Quorra very quickly, as Sam had shown her around his minimalist apartment that, despite the years and the distance between them, he and Flynn were a lot alike. Sam had pointed things out in his deep drawling voice, reminding her of similar times she had spent with his father, listening to his stories, reading book after book, restless for as much information of the real world—the world outside the Grid—as she could get her hands on. _You can't make that, man! _Flynn had been patient with her, just as Sam had been, his blue eyes flashing with surprise or sometimes humor at her voracious questions, her eagerness to know everything. Only, this time, it was real and she didn't have to rely on descriptions in books anymore to quell her curiosity. _Made it. _

As much as the two had in common, there was one thing that separated the two men, Quorra thought. Over the many cycles he spent on the Grid, Flynn's presence had commanded an air of calm, of serenity and…safety. But Sam had equal parts calm and equal parts impetuousness, recklessness that perhaps Flynn had when he was younger, but had been smoothed over by years and years of…waiting. _Sometimes life has a way of moving you past things like wants and hopes. _No, Sam was more like her, she thought, as she moved away from the bookcase and tiptoed silently over to Sam's chair, kneeling in front of him. Around his neck he wore some kind of computer chip, a strangely familiar white light steadily blinking from within. Quorra tentatively reached out to touch it, not quite understanding the sudden pull she felt to do so. _This must be important._ She thought, absently. _I wonder what it is…_Quite unexpectedly, the chip seemed to burn within her hand and she dropped it as it dawned on her that this—this was all that was left of the program that Flynn had written. This was most likely all that was left of the world in which she had manifested and probably the only real connection Sam had left of his father.

Quorra quickly and furtively glanced up at Sam, still before her. From her position, she could see that his face was drawn in an odd expression…_something like anger or…sadness?_ And, almost immediately upon realizing this, she also noticed that he was trembling imperceptivity, hands white and clenched. Quorra was fascinated as she watched pools of liquid appear at the corners of his eyes, and slowly start to slide down his cheeks. Again, letting her curiosity get the better of her, she reached her hand up to try and capture the tears. She was as careful as possible not to let her fingers brush his skin as Quorra still felt insecurity at the closeness that people seemed to exhibit in the real world. It had been a little disquieting seeing how at ease both Sam and Flynn had seemed to be on the Grid, allowing intense communication through touch. She still remembered vividly the hug between the two as they had been reunited…it had been rife with unsaid emotions. _You're here…I'm here._ Quorra startled from this thought as she felt Sam jerk beneath her hand, opening his eyes and letting out a small gasp as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

Sam's blue eyes stared intensely into her own, a questioning but thoughtful look in them, making her feel very tired…and yet, very away at the same time. Quorra moved away slightly, her heart hammering in her chest.

"What are doing up this late?" He asked her, in a hoarse voice, running his hands over his face. She continued to stare at him, until he looked her once again.

"You can't sleep either?" He posed his question again, in different terms.

Quorra started fidgeting, feeling nervous for some reason and inside her head she scowled at herself. "I don't sleep." She stated simply, watching the fire of curiosity and surprise flare up behind his eyes, while his hand inadvertently stretched out to grasp the computer chip that hung in the middle of his chest, fiddling with it. Quorra did not miss this action and, when Sam realized the attention that was being paid, his eyebrows slanted downwards. For a moment, he almost looked awkward, glancing down at the floor before meeting her gaze, his father's calm demeanor rampant over his features. _All the answers to her existence were in that chip._ Quorra thought to herself. At this moment, any normal person would have doubt after doubt spring to mind, trusting someone they hardly knew with their entire future. _But she wasn't normal, was she?_ Quorra shook her head. No. And neither was Sam, she interjected, watching as he leaned back in his chair with an exhaustive sigh and murmured something about…_dreams?_

"Damn dreams…"

**Hey! I just wanted to thank everyone for being kind enough to review my story. I very much appreciate your constructive criticisms and I try (I really do) to keep them in mind as I'm writing. But I will apologize. Tron is such an amazing story that I'm afraid I don't do it justice and THAT is simply because of the limits of my writing skill. So please bear with me as I stumble through this story! This chapter seemed a little off to me but, hopefully (if all goes to plan) it will usher us into more character interaction with Alan, Edward Dillinger and maybe even take us back to the Grid? Who knows! Thanks guys!**


	4. Chapter 4

Sam had the biggest crick in his neck that he could ever remember, and his head pulsed with pervasive visions of the Grid, the otherworldly light, and the inhuman cold. Even the thought of it brought a chill to his bones, and his dreams.

He leaned back in his hair, trying hard to seem nonchalant and not like he was so desperately trying to avoid answering Quorra's unspoken questions about the computer chip he had been so carelessly fiddling with around his neck. To tell the truth, Sam hardly knew where to start or what to say to her to make her understand what he had lost. His whole life, all he had ever wanted was his father back. All he told himself he ever really needed was a family. And he had had it for those few cycles on the Grid only to lose it once more…and worse, it was his fault. His father had sacrificed himself, and everything he could have built for the world, for him…Sam. And he definitely wasn't worth it, he sighed inwardly.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, her curiosity rampant. He realized that his face was damp. He had been crying? He could have sworn he had felt her fingertips gliding across his cheekbone for a second in his slumber. But all that remained now was her concerned look. Frightened, even.

"Damn dreams…" Sam muttered.

He could see Quorra's eyes following his every move; he had a striking suspicion that she could hear his inner monologue. She was the key to innumerable possibilities, who's to say she couldn't read his mind or something? _Great, just great_, he thought. _I can barely take responsibility for myself and my own life, let alone the life of this…person?_ _Was that what she was now? _He shook his head, _Regardless, her future, whatever it was, was in his hands now. He needed to take her in into Encom, to talk to Alan, to…_He could feel his heart rate quicken with the thought and he squirmed a little inside. _He would have to walk in the front door of Encom tomorrow_, he thought. _No more pranks. No more high risk escapes. Holy shit. _

Quorra's eyes flicked abruptly to his at his shift in demeanor. He knew he was being incredibly unfair to her in this moment. She had just as many questions, if more, than he did and she was looking for someone to give her some guidance. But he couldn't seem to make himself care at that moment; he just sat in his chair and let her stare. Because what he had felt over and over again in his dream was the loss of an orphan…he a true orphan now and he felt so alone and he didn't know what to do.

And they had each other, he supposed, looking wearily back at her. But Sam wondered if she really felt his father's loss the same way he did. Sam knew she had been close to Flynn but he accurately guessed that the realities of the Grid made it impossible for two programs to maintain what he would call a "normal" relationship with each other. She knew a fraction of what real people were like and what they expected from a living breathing person. All that she knew were from books, and the ones she had read in his father's home had been largely existential philosophy…excluding the Jules Verne she seemed to love so much. _Do you know Jules Verne? What's he like?_

Sam smiled gently at the thought. Quorra was unlike anybody he had ever met. Apropos, considering he didn't even know at this point if she was…anybody, so to speak. But as he had mumbled about bad dreams, the expressions on her face moved and flowed and up close she was a real as she could get, he mused. Sure, her eyebrow still held its artful arch and her full lips still tilted at the corners, speaking of her discerning nature. But now as her eyes penetrated his, he realized her face was glowing with warmth of…life…he had not seen there before. She was beautiful. And real. And looking at him the way she had looked at his father on the Grid, with reverence and trust. If he leaned forward and reached out to touch her, he thought to himself, he would feel the smoothness of her skin and perhaps even the pulsing of the blood beneath.

Suddenly, a small gasp escaped from Quorra's mouth and Sam realized that he had unconsciously begun to do just that, lean forward in his chair to reach for her. But she shifted away and he quickly did the same, cursing himself. She clearly didn't like to be touched…or didn't know how. _Frickin' dreams. Messing with my goddamn head._ He was no stranger to dreams, they started after his father had disappeared and hadn't let up since. But waking up to Quorra's face, inches from his, her pale blue eyes reflecting the light from the only lamp in the room, was powerfully pervasive as well and he hadn't been able to feel free from their gaze since the moment they escaped through that portal. And the dreams were all the same anyways, he thought, frustratingly so. But she was new. He rubbed his hands wearily over his face, not sure what to do or how to tell Quorra that he would be keeping his distance now. Sam wondered absently at the tight grip she had held him in on his motorcycle…he wondered if that was the first time she had ever felt a warm body before.

"I don't sleep", she had said. Sam shook off his last thought, bombarded with more and more questions. But shouldn't she sleep? She was human now, wasn't she? Sam reminded himself again that he definitely needed to introduce her to Alan…or Dillinger…or at least someone who could give him a better idea of what they were dealing with here. Had the isometric algorithm in her code transformed into human DNA? If so, where was the code stored now? Was there a way to get to it? After all the sacrifices that his father had made to keep her safe, Sam was determined to finish what had been started. The final frontier…Revolution. Maybe Quorra knew…

Sam berated himself. Here he was sitting in his dump of an apartment with a beautiful woman only feet away from him, looking to him and he was planning on using her without even a courteous "Hello, nice to finally meet you. I'm Sam. I'm going to be your roommate and best friend and…protector from here on out. Please help me find the secret to your entire existence." Reality check. He knew absolutely nothing about Quorra. And he could tell she wasn't stupid. Right, she was infinitely smarter than he was, although more naïve about the new reality around her. And she was a better driver than he was, he admitted reluctantly. She was cheeky. Reckless. And the last of her kind. Immensely alone. Just like him. It wouldn't kill him to commit himself to figuring this out….figuring her out. If only for his father. And a little bit for himself. "What do you do if you don't sleep?" Sam asked, intrigued at the idea.

"Meditate", Quorra rolled her eyes slightly. "Or try to." A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Flynn used to sleep all the time", Sam's eyes darted to hers at the mention of his father, "I got used to it", and She sighed in an almost impatient manner.

"Not quite, it looks like", Sam chuckled; eyeing the distance she crossed between the couch and the chair he was still slumped in. It looked to him like she had been a little restless. "What have you been doing?" He asked curiously, slowly starting to extricate himself from his odd sleeping position. Damn, his neck really hurt. A sheepish expression graced Quorra's face briefly and her eyes sparkled. Sam let out a low groan at the expression…what had she been doing when he was foolish enough to close his eyes?

Being in the grid for even the short amount of time that he had been seemed to give Sam a strange sort of jet lag. He had fallen asleep without meaning to, fully intent on watching Quorra as she acclimated to her new reality. But not even the strange expressions that crossed her face as Marve had settled in her lap could hold him completely. It was somehow a mix of trepidation and pure happiness. He had never seen her so unsure of herself in all the time they had known each other. In fact, Sam was almost certain that she was calming herself down by quoting paragraphs of Jules Verne from the rolodex in her mind.

"I was just…looking around…" Quorra vaguely trailed off, looking away guiltily in the direction of…his bookcase. Shit, he thought. She found his books. "You know, you and Flynn are quite similar", she announced suddenly after a long moment of silence as she continued avoiding his penetrating gaze. "He slept in a bed, however". Sam let out a surprised laugh. Maybe he should reexamine his definition of naïve, he thought. She definitely knew more than she let on…

Sam stood up and started moving through his apartment towards his bedroom. Quorra was quiet behind him. "Come on", he said softly over his shoulder. He saw her eyebrow quirk form the corner of his eye as she moved to follow him, the clicking of Marve's nails coming quickly behind her. Sam was never much for clutter and, as he crossed the threshold into his room and turned the light on, he thanked God that he had the sense to pack away the embarrassing action figures and posters of his childhood. Now all that was left was a big bed covered in a simple blue comforter, a dresser full of clothes and a lamp in the corner. A man's bedroom, he thought. "This is it", he said, not really caring what might be crossing Quorra's mind.

His tiredness was washing over him and he felt heavy…and dirty. He needed to change his shirt or something. "Do you want something else to wear?" Quorra looked absently down at her clothes, feeling them for the first time. She rubbed the fabric of her shirt between her fingers, pulling it up slightly so he could see a sliver of pale skin underneath. For some reason the sight was a shock to his senses. Hers as well. It didn't seem to register to her than she might need to change clothes. The simplicity of wearing one Grid suit had been enough for her, he guessed, as she blinked at him blankly. "You don't have to", he assured her. Quorra just nodded as she brushed past him, heading toward his bed. She sat on the edge and wiggled around a bit, testing the springs of his mattress. Hey eyed her. She was a bit weird. Marve immediately jumped up beside her. It seemed that she had made a permanent friend of his once loyal dog.

"Sam… what is it like to sleep?" Quorra lay down, draping herself across his comforter and made a noise of contentment. She definitely seemed to be picking up cues from Marve, he thought to himself.

"I don't know," Sam mumbled, turning his back to rummage through his drawers for a t-shirt to sleep in. "It's sort of like falling, I guess. I mean, that's why they call it falling asleep. Your mind gets sort of quiet and you just let yourself go…" He tried to find the words, peeling off his old shirt and throwing it in his laundry hamper in the corner.

"Falling?" Quorra's voice seemed to squeak at him from his bed. He turned around, concerned. It took him a second to find her face in the dim light, but he eyes were wide and glowing, trained on his chest. She looked alarmed.

"Yeah, falling. It's not scary or anything", he wanted to reassure her but he didn't know what of. "It's probably similar to what you call meditation", he explained further.

"Oh" she mouthed in response, still glaring at him in the dark. Her gaze was so direct it was almost uncomfortable and it suddenly came to him that he was still shirtless that was obviously making her uneasy. He pulled one on as quickly as he could, fumbling a bit. She seemed to let out a breath at this, "Maybe I should try it".


	5. Chapter 5

"Maybe I should try it" Quorra heard herself say, blinking as her brain trying to process the image of Sam shirtless, not quite coming to terms with it. She understood that there were no Grid suits here. The clothes she was still wearing were thinner, she could feel the fabric move against her skin. It made her feel anticipation for…what exactly she didn't know but she had such an awareness of her body here…of Sam's body. Quorra thought of the way Sam's sky blue eyes had penetrated her own, and the way he had tentatively moved to grasp her after he had awoken, and it sent shivers up her back. He had wanted to touch her, she knew it, and he had been hurt when she pulled away. _But why?_ Maybe sleeping wasn't the only thing she should try. If she were going to fit in Sam's world, she would need to let him touch her. He seemed to need it and she thought absently that maybe she needed it to. So that, in his eyes anyways, she felt real.

Quorra let her eyes drift over Sam as he flopped down on his bed beside her with an exhaustive sigh, his hands resting on his broad chest and absently scratching. "It might be good," his deep voice broke her from her internal thoughts. She looked at him blankly. "To try. It might be good to try to sleep," he clarified turning his head to look at her. Quorra startled slightly when she realized their faces were only inches apart and she left a clench in her stomach, wishing Sam would touch her again now so she would know what it felt like. "Until I can talk to Alan tomorrow, we should probably assume that you need rest like the rest of us…" Sam trailed off, looking worriedly at her. "We should probably assume you are human now, until someone tells us differently."

Quorra quirked her eyebrows at his use of the word 'us' but smiled softly, reassuring him that she wasn't offended. "Will Alan be able to help - us?" She asked him slowly.

Sam turned over on his side to face her more fully now, his eyebrow furrowed in thought. "I really don't know, he should…Besides my dad he is the only one that knew about the "final frontier". And he knew the way my dad thought…we can trust him and he can help us till we get more answers."

Quorra's attention was peaked at the mention of Flynn, understanding that Alan must be the colleague Flynn had so often mentioned to her on the Grid. If Sam and Flynn trusted him, she would too. "We will see him tomorrow?" She asked, curious.

"I told him to meet us at Encom in the morning to try and explain things to him before…well, all hell breaks lose with this board meeting," He replied, starting to mutter to himself a bit. "We don't want Dillinger finding out too soon," a dark look crossed his face for a moment, "but if we can get access to the development team maybe….well, maybe they could run some tests or something." He sounded so unsure, Quorra's chest tightened, overwhelmed with her first experience of guilt. She wanted to do something to try and reassure him but she didn't know how, trying to remember all the books she had read asking herself what the heroes would have done in her shoes. She came up empty. But her body reacted independent of her mind, surprising her as her hand reached for Sam's, which had been resting on the bed between them. His eyes widened and shot to hers, his body still next to her, before he relaxed, letting his fingers close around hers, giving her comfort right back. _This is nice. _Quorra thought, her eyes drooping closed. _Why didn't I do this before?_ Being this close to him allowed her to feel the warmth he constantly radiated and she let it seep through her hand, up her arm and into her heart. It made her feel…slow, lethargic…_drowsy. That's the word._

When Quorra opened her eyes once more, she no longer had to squint into the darkness to see Sam beside her. The light had changed, angling across the room and signaling a new day. She realized she had slept for the first time in her life, her hand still clamped in Sam's and, as she stretched out the cramps in her limbs, she couldn't ignore the delicious feeling that crept upon her. Quorra had never shared a bed with anyone before. On the Grid she had her own room, far enough away from Flynn that it afforded her what he called "privacy", though she didn't really understand what he meant. He had explained it to her that it meant her right to be alone and keep secrets to herself that she didn't have to share with anybody. But when she had really thought about it, what secrets did she have reason to keep from Flynn? None had come to mind. He knew everything about her. He knew her algorithm. That was the only secret she had to share with somebody. That's what she had thought then. _Now things are different._

Quorra's eyes flicked to Sam who looked deep in sleep, his breathing erupting in soft snores every so often and his face youthful and relaxed. _No more dreams._ She thought. He looked so…so…childlike with his hair mussed and his shirt riding up on his chest, exposing his stomach. She laughed quietly, thinking that she was glad she never shared a room with Flynn if that is what people looked like in their sleep. Looking at Sam made her feel confused and her stomach feel funny. Suddenly, a short yip emanated from the corner of the bed that made Quorra sit up with a question in her eyes, only to look down upon Marve who had apparently made his bed at their feet. And he looked back up at her with bug eyes, before jumping up and leaping off the bed and making his way out of the bedroom, his eyes looking back over his shoulder at her as if to check if she was following him. Quorra, curious, moved to get out of bed, gently tugging her hand free of Sam's and made her way after Marve. She was momentarily distracted as she walked past a mirror and spied her own reflection. Messy hair, pillow marks on her face, cloudy eyes, and a bright smile on her face. _I am one of them now._ She thought, making a little effort to fix her hair before turning away and continuing to follow Marve into the next room. He was letting out little whines and sniffing at a big back in the corner by the dog bed and wood stove, trotting back and forth in front of it, the sound of his clicking toenails surprisingly loud. _He must be hungry._ Quorra guessed, and so she clumsily fed him, spilling some of the food on Sam's floor in the process.

She was bending over to try and clean some of it up when Sam's voice echoed from the other room and the floor began to creak as he walked into the room holding a device to his ear, talking into it. "I know. Yes, I know, I will be there soon." He sounded irritated, blearily wiping at his eyes, evidently he wasn't quite as awake as she was. "Alan, I will explain everything when I get there okay? There is someone I need you to meet before…" he trailed off at this, sparing Quorra a curious glance at her crouching on the floor next to Marve who was greedily chomping down on his breakfast. She shrugged uselessly up at him. His attention was diverted, however, "No, we need to talk before the meeting in private, I don't want Dillinger in on this yet." Quorra stood up. Sam had mentioned this…Dillinger last night as well. Why was he so adamant that he was not to be trusted? "Okay, we'll be at Encom in an hour." With that, Sam snapped the device shut and turned to her with a searching look, his eyes probing her own. The hair on Quorra's neck stood on end as she realized that he was trying to figure out what she must be thinking. She smiled at him. Despite all the confusion that she knew she would have to face today, her first day in this new world, the strange faces and the uncertainty of who to trust…she knew that she could always trust Sam just as she had always trusted Flynn. In one night with him she had conquered sleep, and more than that, allowed herself to be touched and to feel finally real. Quorra had woken up with such a feeling of newness and anticipation that could not be shaken, even by the wrinkles of worry on Sam's forehead as he stared at her in the morning light, his hair standing in all directions. He finally broke the silence. "Are you ready for this?" He asked her lowly, knowing she had heard his conversation with Alan.


End file.
